


E3-47/Ella

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Series: Random's Fallout OCs [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: E3 just wants to escape, F/M, inside the institute, people keep getting in her way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: This is a collection of all the one-shots and ficlets I've written for my OC Ella.





	E3-47/Ella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows E3 as she wakes up, lives her life as a synth, and the people she meets along the way as she tries to escape.

The first thing she notices when she wakes up is the blinding brightness that shines in her eyes. She goes to wince, or scrunch up her face, but for some reason something inside of her tells her that that’s bad, she can’t react, she needs to stay perfectly calm. The voice in her head convinces her and she stays still, merely blinking against the light.

“E3-47, acknowledge.” There’s a woman in front of her with dark brown hair, dressed in a lab coat, holding a clipboard and taking notes.

Somehow she knows that she’s E3-47. And somehow she knows that she has to follow instructions perfectly.

“I acknowledge.” Her throat struggles with the words but the voice warns her against clearing it.

“Good,” the woman points to the table beside her, “dress, place your hair into a ponytail, then await further instructions.”

Ella isn’t sure why she needs to put her hair up, but the voice warns against asking questions, so she complies. “Yes, ma’am.” It’s then that she notices that she’s naked, but the voice tells her to ignore it, to just follow the instruction she’s been given. It takes only a minute or two for her to dress and fix her hair. She stands completely silent and motionless as she waits for the woman to talk again.

“E3-47, you are being assigned to work with Dr. Ayo in the SRB. You will proceed there and take all instructions from him. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

Three months later and E3-47 is struggling to follow instructions. She’s having issues remembering that the people around her don’t consider her a person, they consider her an object, a tool. They don’t believe that she’s alive.

Only a week ago the scientists around her began to suspect her of being conscious. They sent her to maintenance for a checkup, which came back normal. No malfunctions. Now every day she goes into work, fearing for her life. Even in her short time at the Institute, E3 knows what happens to synths that appear to have their own thoughts, opinions, or feelings. They go down the hall behind the SRB and come back a short time later. But they’re never themselves. Merely hollow shells of who they used to be, until, inevitably, they circle back around to realizing what, and who, they are.

E3 knows that she’s already been checked for a malfunction once, and another incident could mean that she’s the next synth to get reset, wiped. What she needs is a way out, and she might just have that. Rumors have circulated amongst the synths, at least the ones that are willing to admit that they aren’t just tools, that they’re people, that they don’t deserve the things that have happened to the. These rumors talk about a Courser, one who helps synths escape, gets them out of the confines of the Institute and onto the surface. She doesn’t know his designation, but she has a description: tall, like most Coursers are, light brown hair, light green eyes, and a small scar under his right eye, shallow but noticeable in the right light. He allegedly works with other Coursers, training new recruits.

Now, all she has to do is find him without arousing suspicion. A hard task when she’s not supposed to look anyone in the eye, Courser or not.

In a surprise twist, he finds her.

She’s organizing Dr. Ayo’s notes and research for the day, when the door behind her slides open. It’s well into the evening, and all the scientists have gone home, so she’s a little startled, and jumps involuntarily. Her stomach lurches and her heart stops when she turns and sees a Courser. It’s likely that he’ll question her behavior, and if she doesn’t answer correctly it may be the end of the line.

“State your designation.” His voice is calm, but demanding.

“E3-47.”

“What is your directive?”

“Every evening when Dr. Ayo leaves he has instructed me to organize and file his paperwork from the day. Dr. Ayo left approximately 17 minutes ago, average time for my duties to be completed is 28 minutes.”

The Courser doesn’t speak, instead he glances around the room for a few moments before he turns his gaze to her. For a second she imagines that his eyes soften, probably a trick of the fluorescents. “E3-47?” 

“Yes, Sir?”

“You reported to the SRB maintenance wing for a malfunction, correct?”

Suddenly, her mouth is dry. Does this Courser know something? Does he suspect her? Do the SRB scientists still suspect her? Have they sent him to reclaim her so she can be reset before the beginning of the work day tomorrow? She needs to answer, hesitation will get her wiped.

“Technically, however it was documented that I had no physical flaws, and my programing is still sound.” E3 has no idea if her voice came out steady or not. Her heartbeat has not calmed, and the very beginnings of perspiration are appearing on her forehead. Her nervousness is becoming more obvious, and all she can do is hope that he can’t tell.

“E3-47?”

Why does he keep saying her name? Is there something wrong with him? Is he malfunctioning? There’s always been a divide between the Coursers and the synths. Some synths believe that Coursers really are just machines, emotionless tools who don’t have the capacity for true consciousness, others believe that their rigorous training just makes it easier for them to hide their true selves, blend in, become the faceless, empty things that the Institute wants them to be. E3 has no idea what she believes.

“Yes, Sir?”

“What would be your response if I asked you to address me as Trevor?”

By some miracle she manages to keep the shock off of her face. This has to be a trick, a way to trap her into admitting that she thinks he’s a person that she believes herself to be a person. Still, looking into his eyes she doesn’t see anything dishonest, or evil. Then, he tilts his head and the light crosses over his face. For only the briefest of moments it illuminates his cheek, just long enough for her to see a scar, faint and nearly imperceptible, beneath his right eye.

Nothing in her programming or her common sense can keep the words from bursting from her mouth. “You’re him. The Courser who helps synths escape.”

The Courser- Trevor, she corrects -drops all forms of intimidation, replacing the signature blank stare with an easy and open grin.

“You’re correct. I read about your check-up yesterday, figured I’d see if you were ready.”

“Ready for what?”

His smile widens. “Ready to escape.”

E3 answers him with a smile, and then their planning begins. By the time she finishes her tasking she’s 40 minutes overdo, but there’s no one around to check on her, so she doesn’t bother to worry about it. However, when Trevor, who she learns has been designated X2-04, leaves, she begins to worry about something else: is he lying?

There’s always the possibility that the whole thing is a set-up, to catch her, or to catch others who she may interact with. Maybe X2 is a mole that the SRB wants to use to weed out all the synths who want to escape. Maybe she’s just doomed herself. She shouldn’t be so trusting, so nice, so eager to be friends with everyone she can. It might just be her downfall.

Throughout the night she frets, terrified that when wake-up comes she’ll be rounded up, dragged away, never to be seen from in her own capacity ever again. She worries all the way up through work call, and continues to worry until she’s given her first duty of the day. They wouldn’t put her to work if they were going to wipe her, right? Would they? She has no idea, and the anticipation grinds at her nerves. By the time everyone leaves she’s exhausted, ready to sleep for a year, all she has to do is her last duty for the day. Dr. Ayo’s files are nearly finished being put away when the SRB door opens and she turns to find Trevor standing in the entryway.

“E3.”

“Trevor.” Her voice is low when she addressed him, still fearful that she can be heard.

He walks into the room and then takes a casual position across from her, leaning on the desk with his hands braced behind him. He doesn’t walk or talk like a Courser anymore. “You know, you should think of a name to use once you’re out. You can’t go by your designation up there.”

That’s the one thing she never let herself have, E3 would daydream, come up with funny stories or jokes, imagine her life away from the Institute, but she never gave herself a name. It would kill her if she gave herself an identity, separate from the machine they want her to be, only for her to be reset and lose that forever. Even with her trusting nature she doesn’t want to tell Trevor that. Instead, she shrugs and finishes locking up the paperwork.

“Never thought of one before, didn’t see the point.” He’ll have to live with a half truth.

When she turns he’s right behind her, she didn’t even hear him move. “What about now? Is there something you’d like me to call you?” He’s in her personal space, not quite blocking her from moving, but making it difficult and a little awkward for her to leave if she wanted to.

“E3 is fine for now.” Her rejection is simple, but he seems to understand, because he steps back, giving her space to breath. E3 feels her heart rate slow, but his easy acceptance confuses her. She was expecting resistance, or a demand.

“Understood. I’ll be in contact later this week. The teleportation and guard schedule for next month will be out and I should be able to see the best day for you to leave then.” He looks up at her, like he might say something more, but instead he takes a deep breath, smiles, and turns away. “Goodnight.”

“Wait.” Trevor turns back, surprised. “Why..” she hesitates, worried that if she makes him feel awkward that he might not help her, “why did you let me turn you down?”

His brows furrow and he shifts to face her completely. “Why would I force you to do something you don’t want?”

“That’s what people do, don’t they? The scientists, the Coursers,” her eyes drop to the ground, “sometimes other synths. They take what they want because we’re not people, we’re just… things.”

In an instant he’s back in front of her, lifting her chin so she’s forced to make eye contact. There’s a fury there, but for some reason she knows it’s not aimed at her. “Never, ever, talk like that,” his tone is harsh, but his words are gentle, “you are a person, and no one should ever do anything to you that you don’t want them to.”

E3 can feel the emotion behind his words and she finds herself struggling to keep her tears in. His hand drops from her chin, and he steps back again, seemingly realizing that he was violating her personal space. “Would you… uh, like a hug?”

His awkward offer of affection has her smiling, albeit weakly. “Maybe?” She doesn’t feel panic when he, very unsurely, wraps his arms around her, in fact she finds comfort, enough to let out a few shaky tears. “Why are you doing this and not asking for anything in return?”

She feels him shrug. “I lost a good friend to the memory wipe. Before they took him away I promised him that I’d get as many synths that I could out before they caught on. It’s been two years now.” He pulls back when she stops shaking, releasing her and letting her gather herself.

“I’m sorry.” She can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose someone so close to you, she avoids friends for just this reason.

“Don’t be, I’ve had a long time to grieve. It’s an old wound now,” he offers her a comforting smile, “will you be okay until I come back?”

She nods, “I think so.”

“Well, then, I should probably get going.”

He shifts again to head towards the door but she stops him. “I think I’d like to be called Nicole.”

Trevor doesn’t turn to look at her, “then I’ll see you later, Nicole.”

“Goodbye, Trevor.”

Over the course of the next three weeks Trevor and Nicole work together to arrange for her escape, forming a friendship that turns into something more. Secret meetings in long forgotten wings of the Institute become frequent occurrences, and often times their conversation drifts from how to escape and more into who they are, and who they want to be. As the time they spend together increases, Nicole finds herself feeling secure in Trevor’s presence. His willingness to give her space when she needs it, and comfort when she wants it, makes her feel safe when he’s around. Soon enough she feels her heart shift, she cares for him, that much is obvious, but it’s not long before she comes to the conclusion that her feelings are more than that. Nicole likes him, more than just as a confidant, as a friend. She kisses him one day, only on the cheek, but he break outs into a blush so deep she wonders where his confidence ran off to. His flustered nature fuels her confidence and before too long she finds herself in a predicament: she doesn’t want to be without him. It’s the day before her escape when she brings it to Trevor’s attention, and he’s shocked to say the least.

“Nicole are you crazy?” They’re sitting in Dr. Ayo’s office at the end of her shift, their most common meeting spot. Her ankle is in his lap and he’s rubbing gentle circles around the joint there. He doesn’t stop even as they argue.

She’s offended by his comments, but only slightly. “No, I think you should come with me. And if you don’t then… well, then I’d like to stay.”

“You can’t throw away your chance to escape just to stay with me.”

A thought, one she hadn’t considered before, pops into her head. “Do you.. not want to be with me,” she pulls her leg back and he lets her go without a fight, she rushes onto her feet and steps back before he can respond, “is this just temporary, some fun for you to be had before I go?” She’s not sure if it’s panic, anger, or sadness that she feels welling up inside of her, maybe a combination of all three.

He’s on his feet before the sentence is even out of her mouth. “No, god no, Nicole I’m not just using you,” he must sense her panic because he doesn’t step any closer to her, “I want to come with you. Watching you go through that relay is going to be one of the hardest things I do. But I made a promise, and I can’t go back on that.”

His explanation bumbles around in her head, soothing her nerves, but the weight of them hurts her. “I’ll forget you. You won’t forget me. Isn’t that torture?”

“You won’t forget me.”

“But the scientist at the SRB said-”

“Synths can’t remember details about the Institute, or the scientists, but they remember each other,” she doesn’t flinch away when he moves closer so he walks until he can take her hand, “you’ll remember me just as well as I remember you. I promise. And if I ever get caught, I’ll run away and find you. I won’t let them wipe me.”

They collapse into each other, holding tightly. Nicole clings to him, realizing that this may be the last time she gets to. That thought brings her past her breaking point and she cries into his shoulder. There’s little comfort to be found as he runs his hands over her back, trying to soothe her. The two of them stand in each other’s arms until her tears stop falling. Afterwards, they part, both of them heavy with the knowledge that the next time they see each other will be their last.

She doesn’t tell him that she loves him. He doesn’t tell her that he loves her. They both feel foolish, silly. It’s too soon for those kinds of feelings, and deep down they both know that they’re unlikely to see each other again. So, they both keep quiet, silently hoping that the other feels the same, but unwilling to say anything for fear that they don’t.

The next evening comes quickly, and Nicole’s stomach is full of knots, anticipation curling like a snake around a tasty meal. She’s not entirely sure how she makes it through the whole day without arousing suspicion, but when Dr. Ayo leaves for the evening she feels the stress of her facade fading. Soon she won’t have to pretend ever again.

For some reason she takes the time to put away Dr. Ayo’s things, it seems symbolic to her, but she can’t explain why. Maybe it’s just the repetition, or her need for patterns and stability. Really, though, all she knows is that when she shuts the last cabinet she feels complete, no final business that needs to be taken care of. She’s ready to go.

It’s easy for Nicole to sneak her way to her meeting spot with Trevor, since the night before he had provided her with the guard rotation schedule, and when she arrives he’s waiting for her. As she approaches she notices that he’s in full Courser mode, tight shoulders, rigid stance, and scrutinizing stare. In their time together, she had forgotten how intimidating he could be, and for a split second she hesitates, fear overtaking her. Before it can freeze her entirely she pushes past it, her knowledge of him overriding her natural instinct to run.

He says nothing as she approaches, only turns to lead her down the hall. They don’t speak as they walk and she’s not at all surprised when Trevor leads her through a door and into the old abandoned sections of the Institute. Even though there’s no security here they move quickly and quietly, wanting to ensure they don’t get caught. When he finally opens the door to the relay room Nicole finds it hard to breathe, this is it.

“We’re here. Now all you have to do-” He pauses mid-sentence as another Courser appears in front of them.

“X2-04, you are not authorized for rotation in this area. State your business.”

Nicole can feel the nervousness as it tingles over her skin, all she can do is hope that no one else can see it. She wonders if the Courser noticed where they came from, no one is allowed in the forbidden wing, for obvious reasons.

“X7-98, I have been instructed by Dr. Ayo to show E3-47 to her new duties. Starting tomorrow she will no longer be working in the SRB, instead she has been selected to monitor our correspondences and relay requests from field personnel.” She’s unsure if Trevor’s answer is something he had prepared, or if it was a lie he made up on the spot.

“I was not informed of this change,” X7 studies both her and Trevor with scrutiny, “why are you here so late?”

“E3-47 only completed her normal after hours tasking for the SRB staff a few minutes ago. I was instructed to ensure that her normal duties were completed before assigning her new ones.”

“One last question.”

“Of course.”

In a flash X7 has his pistol raised and trained on Trevor, Nicole has to stop herself from crying out. “Why did you bring her here through an unauthorized passage and not up the elevator?”

Trevor’s weapon is raised just as quickly, pointed directly at the other man’s head. “Don’t do this X7, we both know I’m a better shot. I trained you.”

“I wouldn’t count on that X2, I’ve been in the field more recently.”

“Please,” both men startle when she speaks, but neither lower their weapons or take their eyes off of each other, “please just let us go. You can pretend you didn’t see us, no one has to know.”

“Quiet, synth.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Trevor growls out his words.

“Stand down, this is your last chance.”

“Never.”

Even with all the hostility in the room, it still shocks Ella when the first shot goes off. It’s not often that weapons get fired in the Institute. There’s training for the scientists and Coursers, but it’s done at the ranges, away from most synths. Which means she’s not expecting the high pitched sound that the laser beam emits, and for a second she’s confused as to what actually happened. Then, she sees Trevor stumble and drop to the ground. His pistol slides across the floor and her heart goes with it.

“No!” The scream that rips from her throat doesn’t even sound like her own voice. More like a wounded, trapped, and scared creature. She doesn’t feel the floor as she drops to her knees and scrambles over to Trevor’s still form. Before she can even attempt to roll him over, see if he’s alive or not, a strong grip pulls at her arm, tugging her backwards from his body. She goes to fight it, but she’s no match for a Courser. “Let me go, let me see him! Trevor!”

Arms tighten around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. “Stop resisting, E3-47, or I will be forced to use your recall code.” She knows he will, and she goes limp. “Do not move.”

She doesn’t move, but she does speak. “Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone you helped me.”

X7 crosses the room to Trevor’s body and rolls him over with his boot. There’s no doubt in her mind that he’s dead when she sees his eyes. They’re vacant, empty, lifeless.

“Even if I released you I would just be sent to retrieve you at a later date,” he turns to her, “let’s save us both the time and effort. Come.” She follows him to the elevator, leaving Trevor’s body behind. Each step feels heavier than the last and by the time she steps into the elevator she’s ready to collapse. From where she stands she can see the bottom of Trevor’s boots.

“What will happen to him?” She pictures him being sent back to the SRB, fixed, wiped, and forced to resume his duties. To her, a fate worse than death. To become fully aware, to fight for your life and the lives of others, only to have that identity stripped away from you, torn to shreds, and then not even know that it occurred? She shudders at that thought. Then she realizes that that’s exactly what is about to happen to her. It’s her worst fear come to light.

“That’s none of your concern, synth.”

The fire of rebellion sparks in her one last time. “My name is Nicole.”

“Your designation is E3-47.”

She doesn’t argue with him.

Somehow the scientists are already waiting for them when they make it to the SRB, they train their weapons on her as she enters, but it doesn’t really matter, the fight has drained out of her. She was so close, the teleporter was right in front of her, no more than 20 feet away. To have her escape ripped away from her at that moment tears any shreds of hope she has left. Not to mention what happened to Trevor. His empty eyes haunt her, as does the way his body went limp and how he died trying to help her. He loved her, she knows that now, no one would die for her otherwise. Regret tugs at her heart, she should have told him.

Numbness spreads over her body, and at first she thinks it’s apathy, that maybe they’ve finally broken her. Then she notices the needle in her arm.

“E3-47, lie on the table, face up.”

The table in question is right in front of her, but her legs feel heavy and her mind is swimming in confusion. What did they drug her with? Where is she? What is going on? Even through the foggy haze that her mind is fumbling with she finds herself climbing onto the table. Everything is cold, spreading out from the pinpoint spot where they injected her. The ice fills her veins and yet her heart feels warm, hot even. Why is it pounding so fast? Isn’t she supposed to be doing something? Going somewhere? Isn’t there supposed to be with her?

“E3-47, do not resist.”

That’s not right, that’s not who she is. With what little comprehension she has left she opens her mouth. “Nicole.” The scientist tying her wrists down, who she thinks she might know, looks at her with confusion. “My name is Nicole.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain cracks across her face and her vision is jerked to the side.

“Your designation is E3-47. Be silent, synth.”

Desperation rises quickly, filling her and replacing the coldness that has settled over her skin. They need to know who she is. Somehow she knows she’ll never remember and that someone ...someone important is dead, someone close to her, the only other person who knows who she really is. So these people, whoever they are, they need to know her name. She doesn’t want to be forgotten.

“Nicole, Nicole, Nicole.” She repreats it over and over, the only thing that’s clear in her mind, the only thing she knows to be a fact. “My name is Nicole.”

Another needle is plunged into her arm and she can feel herself slipping, still her name falls from her, again and again until her lips are too numb to form proper words. Even then she repeats it, inside of her own head, until she forgets it herself.

Blackness creeps in from the sides of her vision and she’s hit with a sudden moment of clarity. How fitting it is, that the first thing she saw was a blinding light, and now, as she slips away, there’s nothing but darkness, and a crushing feeling of loneliness.

Then nothing.

The first thing she notices when she wakes up is the blinding brightness that shines in her eyes. She goes to wince, or scrunch up her face, but for some reason something inside of her tells her that that’s bad. So she stays still, motionless, the perfect picture of a compliant synth.

  
**Note: This fic is in fact for my OC Ella, who is clearly referenced by the name Nicole here. The idea is that she becomes Ella later, Nicole is just who she was before the memory wipe.**


End file.
